


Growing Accustomed To Order

by Dikhotomia



Series: 1000 Prompts Attempt 2: The (Slightly) Unorganized Mess [6]
Category: Control (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Slightly - Freeform, Snapshots, minor hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23405086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dikhotomia/pseuds/Dikhotomia
Summary: "There's order to be found in the chaos of The Oldest House. Stillness in shifting hallways and rooms, silences in large open spaces after the Hiss have been cleared and before the staff dare to wander them again. No one has really left the executive sector ever since the lock-down, ever since Jesse had quite literally bulled her way through and taken back control from the hiss. Nobody except the rangers who patrol with her, conversations short and to the point.They comment but Jesse doesn't always respond, focus elsewhere or inward. Sometimes she talks with them between her half hearted attempts at giving orders. She's not sure how long it's been, days? weeks? months? (all the clocks are stuck at the same time, and the windowless halls and rooms give her no idea how much time has passed) and she still hasn't settled in to her position. She knows what she wants to get done, knows what needs to get done, but putting it out there to people has never been her strong suit."ORSlowly, Jesse begins to settle into her role as Director. Slowly, she begins to get closer to one Emily Pope as well.
Relationships: Jesse Faden & Emily Pope, Jesse Faden/Emily Pope
Series: 1000 Prompts Attempt 2: The (Slightly) Unorganized Mess [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594495
Comments: 15
Kudos: 121





	Growing Accustomed To Order

**Author's Note:**

> I started out with this not really knowing where tf I was going with it, and then at the middle it finally found it's footing so excuse the weird choppy start.
> 
> Prompt 9 "Order."

There's order to be found in the chaos of The Oldest House. Stillness in shifting hallways and rooms, silences in large open spaces after the Hiss have been cleared and before the staff dare to wander them again. No one has really left the executive sector ever since the lock-down, ever since Jesse had quite literally bulled her way through and taken back control from the hiss. Nobody except the rangers who patrol with her, conversations short and to the point.

They comment but Jesse doesn't always respond, focus elsewhere or inward. Sometimes she talks with them between her half hearted attempts at giving orders. She's not sure how long it's been, days? weeks? months? (all the clocks are stuck at the same time, and the windowless halls and rooms give her no idea how much time has passed) and she still hasn't settled in to her position. She knows what she wants to get done, knows what needs to get done, but putting it out there to people has never been her strong suit.

She's so used to working alone, that learning to work with and lead other people is something she's still getting used to. She does better when she doesn't try and choose her words, does better when she doesn't think about it and just speaks when the rangers are there waiting, heads tilted slightly to better hear her words. She's better at it when they're in the middle of combat, her voice an added note to the chorus of shouts.

And it gets easier the more she does it, like everything else, practice made better. 

But she still likes it best when she's alone, wandering the seemingly endless expanse of the house. Settling at the center of a control point to just listen, hearing something she could almost say was the house's breath, service weapon pulsing along to the beat of her own heart. She passes the first off as a little too much, even with all the insanity that goes on around her, the second is just par for the course.

Though she wonders just how linked her and the weapon are, eyeing it where it sits beside her on the floor, innocently still until the moment she picks it up again.

She wonders a lot of things.

There's never any answers.

\-------

They start trying to keep time in subtle ways, after Jesse tips the stuck clock off the wall in her office in an admittedly petty fit of self contained annoyance. Emily catches her staring at it mulishly, arms crossed and weight sunk into one leg. She wishes she hadn't done it, one shoulder rising in a jerking shrug when Emily voices her concern.

"It's just frustrating," she says, turning as Emily enters the office and shuts the door behind her. "When I got here I knew what the date was, what time it was, what year. Now I've lost track of it all, and every clock being stuck just reminds me of the fact."

It reminds her of being in the institution, never sure how much time had gone by. At least here she had a say in everything else, had as much freedom as the building could allow them without the remains of the Hiss escaping.

(Now if she could just convince it to shift the executive bathroom back...)

"The clocks used to run." Emily is talking when Jesse comes out of her head, bending down to pick up the offending object and look at it. "I came to the conclusion it had something to do with the house cutting us off from the outside world when the Hiss got in. I assume once we've finally gotten rid of them and the house is able to return to normal the clocks will start working again."

Jesse bites back the retort that sits at the tip of her tongue, swallowing it back down like a particularly bitter fruit. It's not Emily's fault, she's just as trapped as everyone else.

"You're right," she says instead, heaving a long sigh. "Makes you wonder what it will look like when we finally leave, huh?"

 _If._ Something whispers in the back of her mind, her stir crazy frustration finally had a voice and it was doing nothing to help in the anxiety slowly doing it's best to eat her alive, crawling up the staircase of her spine like a thousand tiny insects. _If._

Emily contemplates her for a long moment, head tilted and expression softened. Jesse knows she's watching the way she shifts from side to side, the way her hands twitch and her fingers clench and relax. "You're restless," she says, an observation instead of a question, so quiet Jesse almost misses it. "Anyway, I do wonder what it will be like outside when we leave. But the fact of the matter is wondering about it isn't going to get us out faster, action is." And she's so gentle about it, voice steady and calm despite her poise.

So serious, so curious, so kind.

Jesse makes a noise low in her throat. "Right, and glaring at clocks counts as not helping."

After that Emily picks a random day, close after the last day all of them were aware of, and starts to keep hours around everyone's schedule. It eases the anxiety in a way Jesse can't explain, but it helps her focus and Emily smiles slightly at her at the end of one meeting, something subtle and only for her.

She delivers her next set of orders with a sense of confidence and steadiness she'd been scrambling for.

\-----

Jesse pays Emily back for her consideration in the form of a shard of black rock, setting it down on the meeting table in front of the other woman. She ignores the way her ankle twinges every time she leans weight on it, sitting down in her chosen chair with the same grace she always did.

"Is this...what I think it is?" Emily asks, looking between the chunk of stone and her. "Did you-?"

"I was there doing something else," she replies, masking her lie with an ease she only hated herself for sometimes. "And I happened to remember you saying you wanted samples." Her shrug is nonchalant, another bruise trying to bring her attention to it. "I also remember you mentioning wanting to try and make other things out of it." She leans against the table as she speaks, elbows holding her weight. "Like knives."

Once again the other woman watches her in a way that makes her feel like Emily sees more then she lets on. That maybe she sees all the little aches and snags Jesse is trying to hide. It was more likely that Emily was thinking, rolling over all the various ideas she kept stored in her mind until Jesse teased them back out with a question or a passing comment.

"I'll have to run a few experiments," Emily starts, words tumbling out in her excitement. Jesse misses most of what she says, the large words and scientific lingo going right over her head. But she listens like she always does, lips quirked in a ghosting smile. She likes seeing Emily like this, happy, animated, telling her about all these things they could possibly do with the right materials. Emily is a woman who loves her job, who is clearly making the best of the situation they're trapped in.

Jesse feels less tired when she's around her. "I'll help you run field tests," she says when Emily trails off and starts to make notes on her clipboard. "With....well, whatever you need tested."

Emily already knows Jesse missed half of what she said, her smile something mischievous enough Jesse's lips thin. "Okay, nothing that may or may not explode in my face."

The other woman laughs.

\-----

"Hey, uh, Director?" 

She's still not used to it, never will be because she doesn't want to be, but she still responds, directing her full attention to the man who had spoke to her as she steps out of the control point's perimeter. Habit, she knows, is hard to break. So as much as she tries to convince them to call her 'Jesse' a lot of them default to what they're used to anyway.

Jesse doesn't fault them.

The man, a ranger, shifts his footing. "I was told to inform you when you returned that there was a safe room that had more survivors in it, there's a team waiting to be deployed on your order."

Time suddenly isn't at all on her side, and she steps down on that familiar crawling anxiety. "Let's go," she says, turning back on her heel. The ranger doesn't need to be told twice, steps clattering behind her and then by her as she slows to let him lead the way. She pushes all her thoughts to the side as the service weapon jumps back into her hand the moment they leave.

They meet the team crowded by the elevator, all of them clearly having expected her presence. "Hey," Arish drawls as soon as she's within earshot. "Pope wanted me to give you this." Her eyes dip to the knife he holds out, pristinely crafted with a plain leather sheath. "Hell of a time, huh? She finished it this morning while you were still out on patrol."

She takes it, slipping the blade free and testing it's weight. Balanced, but she couldn't be sure of anything else until they got into the thick of it. "Emily has great timing," Jesse says, slipping the blade back into it's leather, and the sheath into her belt. It's a clumsy spot, but it'll do in this emergency. "But I'll admit this wasn't my idea of a field test." 

Then again, when it came to The Oldest House, nothing ever was.

\------

She's not sure what part of the house the end up in, winding hallways and shifting doors bringing them knee deep into a bunch of angry Hiss. There's ten of them, struggling in an uphill shitfest, guns roaring and chips of floor and whatever else Jesse can get a hold on hurtling through the air. "Focus on the charged!" she shouts over the deluge of noise, planting six bullets in the head of the nearest Hiss ranger. "You already know what'll happen if they get too close!" She flings a desk into the crowd, holding an arm up to ward of the flash of the explosion.

Her rangers hardly need to be told what to do by now, all of them holding as much experience fighting the Hiss as she does, but her orders focus them as much as their presence focuses her. She's learned to move as one unit with them, letting them flank her as they weave from one room to another, ever alert with each step.

"We've located the safe room!"

There's ten of them still, and only minor injuries.

"I got your back, Faden," Arish says, staying close to her side as she leaves the protective circle of rangers. She hears their steps as they fan out, guns at the ready. No one knows what to expect behind the door, all of them painfully aware it will either be people or Hiss.

But they always had to check.

Their track record so far had been disappointing.

Still, Jesse hits the intercom on her side, leaning closer to keep her voice low. "Anyone in there?" She waits, expecting silence or the familiar noise of Hiss static to blare out over the comm and send them all scattering, but instead all of them get a surprise.

"Y-Yes, are you here to rescue us?" A woman asks, predictably terrified and trying very hard not to sound hopeful. For a second she feels the relief that settles across all of them, replaced just as quickly with the iron determination they would need to get these people back to central exec.

"Yea," she replies, hesitates, waits for the other shoe to drop and casts Arish a glance when it doesn't. "Do you all have HRA's on?" It's not the question these people want to hear, but it's the one Jesse absolutely has to ask, has to know so they can form a plan before they even step out of the room.

"We do," the woman replies. "But the strap on Anders' one is busted."

Arish leans in, hand on her shoulder, voice low in her ear. "It'll be fine so long as he can keep the damn thing on until we get back." She nods.

"Alright, we'll manage. I need you to open the door okay?" She says, taking a single step back from the door.

"I hope this isn't some kind of elaborate Hiss trap." someone says from behind her, and she glances over her shoulder at the collection of rangers there, all as pensive as she is.

"They aren't that smart," she mutters, taking her thumb off the intercom and the service weapon back in hand. "And if they've gotten that smart, we have a much bigger problem on our hands." She still stands back, focus split between the door and the fire extinguisher conveniently hanging on the wall nearby. "Stand ready," she murmurs.

They all do. 

By now it's instinct.

The lock releases and slowly the door grinds open to reveal the people clustered on the other side of it. All in disarray, all a mix of relieved and cautious. They don't know who she is, having probably believed her to be a ranger from another sector they'd never met before. "Who...?" one of the men starts, picking his way to the front to get a better look at her. He looks like a bureaucrat, he looks like trouble.

Jesse smiles. "Jesse Faden," she says, terse, polite. "The new Director."

"What happened to Trench?" The same man asks, close enough now Arish steps a little in front of her. She takes it for the precaution it is, the other Rangers inching closer.

"Dead," Jesse replies. Everyone in central exec knows the truth of what happened, knows why the board decided to step in and allow the service weapon to change hands. 

She'd told them, because there didn't need to be anymore secrets.

"Anders," the woman over the intercom says, and Jesse notices the broken strap as soon as she says his name, eyes dipping to the haphazard way it's tied together. "I think we should be thankful the new Director is even here."

_It's nice to see a Director out in the field!_

"We don't really have time to stand here and talk," Jesse interjects, shifting her weight. She knows what she looks like to them, to everyone when she first met them, a woman in jeans, a plain shirt and a leather jacket, looking exactly like someone who just walked in off the street. Someone who doesn't at all look the part.

Right place, right time? She hasn't decided yet.

"We don't," Arish agrees, stepping further between her and Anders' increasing scrutiny. "Central Executive is the safest place right now, so you can air all your problems there."  
"I'll take point," Jesse says, turning on her heel. "Clear a path. Arish, you and the others are on babysitting duty."

Arish snorts. "Thanks Faden," he says, a whisper of laughter passing through the Rangers. "Leaving me with all the fun jobs."

"Someone's got to do them," she replies, shrugging. "Besides, you won't have to worry about being ass deep in Hiss if I'm taking all the heat." She's used to it, but this time she had to keep all attention on her, there was no retreating to save her own ass when there was more than a dozen people depending on her holding the line.

"Godspeed, Director," one of the other Rangers says, nodding.

She hears the whispers as she heads across the room. "She's the new Director? The one the board chose? Is this a mistake?"

"Faden's been doing nothing but fighting to save us all, she's a good woman and right now? The FBC needs someone like her more than ever." 

"I'll be the judge of that."

"The hell you will, Anders."

_See? A Problem._

\----

'Clearing a path' turns out to be as brutal as she expects it to be, The Hiss seemingly throwing everything they have at her all at once. She weathers it by throwing everything she has back at them, desks and concrete slabs, rebar and other Hiss. Bullets and her new knife when a few get too damn close.

Turns out it works pretty well, turns out Hiss claws to the ribs hurts about as much as everything else she's had thrown at her. She ignores the throb of it as she shoots her way through the rest of the crowd, ignores the warmth of her blood sticking her shirt to her side as she impales a distorted on a rebar, teeth grit and sweat stinging in her eyes.

Behind her she hears Arish shouting orders, hears the occasional rattle of gunfire and knows there was one she missed.

Unavoidable, the Hiss were like roaches.

But one was marginally better then a swarm. 

She takes a few more hits in the last quarter of their trek back to the control point, a skim to her forehead and a bullet in her forearm. All annoying but not serious, all throbbing but easy enough to ignore. She's exhausted, squinting one eye when blood runs in it and drips mockingly off her chin.

_Head wounds always bleed like a bitch._

"Faden!"

She looks over her shoulder, strongly resisting the urge to sit down. She needed to sit down, needed to stop. "Hey," she says, flicking a wave. "I was starting to get a little worried."

"Jesus," Arish mutters as he gets closer and sees. "Are you--?"

"Fine," she replies, shrugging. "Nothing serious."

He doesn't buy it, she lets him worry.

They all make it back.

(The injuries are worth it.)

\------

"Jesse!"

Emily finds her after she's been patched up by one of the few medics they have on hand before the other woman had vanished to tend to the other rangers and their newest group of reacquired staff. She can hear Anders complaining from halfway across the room.

_Can't wait to deal with him._

"Hey," she says, shifting as Emily sits beside her. Sits close. 

"Are you okay?" Emily asks, not quite touching her, hands ghosting against her arms and her hands, one nearly brushing her cheek. "I heard you got hurt."

"I'm fine," she assures, catching one of the scientist's fluttering hands. "Nothing I can't handle." She smiles in the face of the other woman's worry, masking her surprise when Emily threads their fingers together. Holds her hand tight.

"Please be more careful, Jesse, if I-we lost you I don't think we'd be able to recover this time."

( _If I-_ )

Jesse nods. "I'll do my best, but you know I can't promise anything." She's strong, she's stubborn and determined and a survivor, but she's not infallible and as careful as she tries to be there's always a chance it won't work. Always a chance eventually she might get killed.

By this Hiss or by the Board.

"I know, I just..." and she trails off, rubbing her thumb over the back of Jesse's knuckles. Absent, soothing. She's not sure for who. "I just wish there was more I could do to help."

That's not what she wants to say, Jesse knows, can see it in the way she averts her eyes. She doesn't pry, not yet, it's not something damming, but it does involve them.

"You did, your knife saved me." She reaches for it with her free hand, slipping it from her belt. "If I didn't have this I might have been in more trouble." She holds it out, offering. "Next time I'll order a expedition down to the mines, and we'll get more. Make more HRA's and more knives and whatever the hell else you wanna do."

Emily lights up, worry bleeding away in increments. "I have...so many ideas," she says, resting her hand against Jesse's wrist. "But keep that knife," she adds, leaning a little closer. "I made it for you."

"Thank you, Emily."

(So maybe she's settled in more than she thought.)


End file.
